The Sound of Silence
by bittercoffeelips
Summary: The summer of fifth year brings change of many types to many familiar characters, follow as Harry takes down Tom Riddle the way it should ahve been, with a little romance and fun along the way!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Two words guys, artistic and license. Please don't correct me unless I've been an utter twit, most of its intentional. Honest! Sorry this chapter is kind of boring but (unless you like reading four paragraphs about hair of course) but it needs to be done, I mean Harry's always getting makeovers, I figure its Hermione's turn. **

_**Fallen- Seether**_

_She's wearin' dresses on the borderline_

_(lookin good)_

_Awaking senses that were lost in time_

_(make amends)_

_This liberation is the one they'll love for ages_

_(hey man I see them comin' again)_

_Just cut those dresses make you look so fine _

_(you're a ten)_

_Put on that shirt and you'll look so divine_

_(i'm impressed)_

_You're much too pretty you don't need your mind _

_(just pretend)_

_Just bat them eyelids get your heart's desires_

_A resurrection of the shallow and the vapid_

_(hey man I see them comin')_

Hermione watched Harry depart from the train station, unceremoniously dragged by the ear, by his uncle, whom she had come to despise. He did not struggle, it was useless, and instead he let himself be pulled away with a sad smile on his face and a wave on his hand.

She did not pretend to understand what he was going through, Hermione was no stranger to grief, but there was something else in his emerald eyes, ever since the fight at the ministry, it looked a little like guilt, as though it was his fault.

Hermione only turned back to the Weasleys after the Dursleys were completely out of sight. Ron smiled as Mrs. Weasley pulled her into a hug "Fleur's going to be so excited to have some girls more her age to take shopping, I'm glad your parents agreed to let you stay, your part of the family now" both Ginny and Hermione winced; Fleur was not their favourite person in the world.

"Yeah 'Mione, maybe we should dye your hair red, then you'd really be one of us huh?" Ginny snorted in amusement at the absurdity of his idea, Hermione blushed under Ron's scrutiny for a minute. "I guess your right, she doesn't have the looks to carry of Weasley red" he conceded, which earned him a punch from Hermione. "You wound me woman" he pretended to stagger around clutching his arm. Ginny slapped her forehead at her brother antics.

Molly Weasley rolled her eyes, "gather round, grab on to the port key dears" she said encouragingly, brandishing a garishly striped sock. They all grabbed on and where whisked away in a swirl of coloured lights to the Burrow. They landed in a rather inelegant heap near the front door. Hermione was shocked to find herself pinned to the floor by Ron in a compromising position; they stared at each other blushing for a moment, his piercing blue eyes meeting her soft hazel ones. "Oi get a room you two" yelled one of the twins; Hermione had no idea how to tell them apart and had given up trying. They both scrambled up blushing and made a big show of dusting of their robes.

Ginny dragged Hermione up to their shared room, and they idly chattered about the previous year as they unpacked. "What do you want to do this summer then?" Hermione asked Ginny; although they were good friends they didn't have much in common. Hermione planned to spend most of her time with Ron, although it became more and more likely he wanted to spend all his summer playing quiditch with his brothers, as their excited yells from the garden became louder. " well I figured you'd be busy studying for lots of it, I guess we can do some shopping, maybe we can teach you to fly, that would be awesome…" she trailed off watching the match continuing in the garden. Noticing they were short of a seeker Ginny turned to Hermione "you don't mind if I go play do you? You could come and watch" Ginny asked brightly.

After assuring Ginny she was fine and had a book to read, Ginny left happily, leaving Hermione to collapse, relieved not to be forced to play, on her bed with Hogwarts a History. She turned the page with a sigh, she was in for a quiditch orientated summer, she could tell.

Hermione jumped and pulled out her wand, not that she was allowed to use it, when someone knocked on the door. She immediately relaxed when she realised it was only Fleur, Hermione took a moment to take in the part-Veelas ethereal beauty. Although Hermione looked disapprovingly at her low cut shirt and short skirt, she couldn't help but be a little jealous, she wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. What did she want? Hermione checked her watch, it was nowhere near dinner time, and everyone else seemed occupied with the game, either playing or avidly watching.

"Ah, Hermione, I 'ave been looking for you!" Fleur exclaimed after a moment in heavily accented English, pulling Hermione into a hug that smelled strongly of a clingy perfume. "You ave no idea what I 'ave been through, zat Mrs. Weasley knows nothing of fashion and Bill is away ze 'ole summer, we're going to have so much fun" she smiled. Hermione began to panic, she was probably the only girl on earth who shared less in common with Fleur than Mrs. Weasley, her two best friends were boys, and it wasn't like fashion was one of Luna and Ginny's favourite topics either.

"...er I'm glad to see you too, but I really don't know that much about fashion…." Hermione was trying to tactfully tell Fleur she had better things to do with her time, unfortunately for her, Hermione's attempts at diplomacy failed abysmally. "That's okay, I vill teach you, you shall be my, how do you say eet… my prodigy". Fleur stood appraising Hermione for a second, taking in the battered jeans and baggy t-shirt. Her frown grew the longer she stared. Hermione began to shift and blush under her gaze; sure she was imagining her as a mini Fleur.

Fleur's gaze became calculating as she circled around, suddenly it brightened as a plan formed in her head, "first ve must fix zis bush on your 'ead" she grabbed Hermione's wrist and dragged her to her girly abode, on the floor above. At first Hermione was dazed by all the pink, in one corner a dressing table was crammed full of potions and makeup, the bed was barley visible through piles of cushions in shades of pink varying from pale baby pink, to a shocking magenta, the wardrobe looked to be overflowing and an assortment of dresses were hung from its top.

Fleur pushed a reluctant Hermione into a quilted chair with gold edges, she was sure this stuff had been brought over from France; Mrs. Weasley would never have bought Fleur half of this stuff, "now just relax while I work my magic" Fleur said in what Hermione though was supposed to be a reassuring voice. For the next three hours Hermione sat there trying to decipher the lyrics to the obscure band that Fleur had put on, it almost drowned out Fleur's despairing mutters, but not quite.

The first half hour was taken up by brushing its considerable mass with a small comb. Eventually Fleur became so annoyed at Hermione's protests and wiggling she put her in a full body bind, oblivious to Hermione's pleading eyes "it for your own good, imagine if you jogged my 'and, eet would be a disaster!" horrific amounts of dark blonde hair fell to the ground, and Hermione became more and more panicky, one of her eyes began to twitch uncontrollably, what could be so important as to warrant a full body bind, she couldn't even see what Fleur's was doing to her hair for Christ sakes, it could be fuchsia for all Hermione knew.

After another hour of Fleur's struggling she relinquished her hold on the scissors and moved over to her dresser where she examined the labels of various bottles. She debated the merits of two different shades of blonde for a while, deciding upon a pale honey blonde with highlights and a few bleached streaks. She also picked up a smaller bottle Hermione couldn't read the label of the writing was so small. Hermione gulped, this could not be good.

Using her wand Fleur wet Hermione's hair with jets of lukewarm water using another charm to make sure the water stayed in place, she applied the small green bottle first, rubbing it in and leaving it for fifteen minutes while she read Hermione an article about the precise shade of midnight blue that was all the rage in Paris. Were it not for the full body bind, Hermione was sure she would have vomited.

After rinsing out the first potion Fleur added the streaks of dye and wrapped the strands of, now perfectly straight hair, in pieces of tin foil. She lazily used her wand to heat them with hot air. After making sure it was completely dry Fleur released the body bind and summoned the mirror, Hermione gasped, her hair hung in a bob ending just below her shoulders, a fringe swept to one side, framing her heart shaped face perfectly, surprisingly it was poker straight, there were no signs of its previous frizz. However the biggest difference by far was the shade of blonde, it was nowhere near the white colour of Fleur's, but it was a lighter shade of blonde with no hints of the mousy brown it had been before, a few sections of paler blond stood out.

Hermione gasped, "How did you do this? I've tried every potion there is to tame my frizz! And how are you so good at styling hair anyway" she asked Fleur excitedly.

"Ah well I do all my sisters 'air and the potion I used is a French secret, it vill magically straighten your 'air for up to four months, I vill order some more for you, for when you go back to 'ogwarts, now stand up so I can measure you, some of my old clothes may fit you" she looked at her outfit in disgust for a moment before banishing it with a wave of her wand, leaving Hermione in her childish frilly underwear, she shook her head even more when she realised what Hermione's choice of underclothing was, "zat will ave to go as vell of course, ve can go shopping tomorrow" Fleur reasoned.

Hermione flushed red, frozen to the spot, and grabbed at a pink fluffy blanket to protect her modesty with. "Fleur" she hissed desperately, "is this really necessary?" "Ah I 'ad forgotten how prudish you English people were, but don't worry, we are like sisters, no?" Fleur enveloped Hermione in an awkward hug. Well, Hermione reasoned, it was the done thing in France, Fleur had probably seen worse. A measuring charm later, Fleur began to unshrinking the dolls sizes clothes in the trunk at the foot of her bed. Hermione didn't even want to think about how many outfits lay in that trunk, probably more clothes than she had ever had in her life.

Hermione was soon almost buried in a pile of clothing; she became slowly more and surer that this had been a big conspiracy on Fleur's part that she had conveniently "grown out" of so many clothes so recently. After being lectured on the rudimentary basics of how to put an outfit together Fleur had wrestled her into a pair of pale blue jeans far tighter than Hermione was used to and a deep blue jumper that was soft to the touch.

"Now, read a book while I go through your clothes to see what you already have that wearable, I may 'ave to take them outside so I can levitate 'zhem around." Flumping back on her bed Hermione began to pursue Hogwarts a History once again, she was sure if she read it enough, eventually she would be able to remember it off by heart. Fleur helped herself to the wardrobe and replaced all of Hermione's old clothes with the new ones, for some reason she didn't seem to concerned that there wasn't space for the old clothes left.

The time past quickly for Hermione, and she only interrupted her reading once to check through the window that Fleur wasn't making a bonfire of her clothes, but she just seemed to be harmlessly levitating them and placing them into various piles. The Weasleys finished their quiditch game, just as the sun was setting, and they called Hermione down for supper, which turned out to be a groaning picnic table laden with everyone's favourite foods.

Ron took a seat next to Hermione and started loading his plate, he glanced at Hermione "it's a shame Harry isn't here huh" he said through a mouthful of food. Ron dropped his fork and did a double take, blushing when Hermione politely coughed to draw attention to the fact he was staring. His ears turned red as he asked "have you changed your hair or something 'Mione? It looks good". "Fleur did it, it's so nice to have straight hair for a change, here feel it, its really soft" Hermione replied overly enthusiastic that he liked it.

The twins almost choked as Hermione ran a lock of her hair across Ron's cheek. "Guys" said Fred or maybe George, "what did we tell you about…" said the other twin "…getting a room" they finished in unison, it was freaky how they were able to do that so well, she would have to look into twin bonds Hermione though distractedly. She quickly looked down, her ears matching Ron's, and became overly fascinated by a lump of homemade bread.

The rest of the meal past in idle chatter, until desert, a rich creamy strawberry ice-cream. "Hey, where's Fleur?" Ginny asked looking puzzled. He query was quickly followed by a loud shriek that had the Weasley males covering his ears at its pitch. The elder Weasleys rushed towards where Fleur's cries were coming from, wands drawn.

They all arrived to the back of the garden to find a pile of smouldering clothes, and Fleur angrily stamping out the last of some nasty looking green flames. "I am so sorry Hermione, I don't know vat happ'nd, I tried to move the pile and I must 'ave flicked my wand vrong" she exclaimed innocently. Hermione flumped down on the grass in shock, Fleur had burnt her clothes, "ah do not worry my leetle sister, we will go shopping tomorrow and you still 'ave clothes I gave you zis evening yes" Ron pulled her up and walked her up the stairs to her room.

"I don't get why your so upset 'Mione, there only clothes" said Ron as they sat down on her bed and noticed her wracking sobs, "you don't get it, those clothes held so many memories, the socks I was wearing when we defeated fluffy, the burn mark from you trying to learn wingardium leviosa, the dress I wore to the Yule ball, the hat we used to store snowballs and ambushed Snape with" Hermione spluttered desperately. Ron gathered her in his arms laughing "'Mione those clothes don't hold memories, they're all in here" he said pointing to her temple. Hermione's sniffled pathetically in response. "C'mon 'Mione, we'll get you new stuff tomorrow, Fleur's paying of course", they dissolved into helpless fits of giggles.

Ron eventually left after much plotting of Fleur's downfall, or at least bankruptcy. Ginny came in and hugged Hermione good night, and Ginny soon fell asleep. Hermione lay awake thinking about what she could buy tomorrow, new underwear, new school robes and maybe some nice shoes. It had been a while since she'd been shopping and seeing as Fleur was paying…

Just as Hermione's eyelids were drooping closed, it had been an eventful day, Ginny began to let loose hideous snores. At first Hermione tried to ignore them. She put her hands over her ears and her head under the duvet. But Ginny's snores were so extravagant she was soon tossing and turning in frustration. It was going to be a long night.

In the morning Ginny hopped down the stairs enthusiastically, followed by a not-so-bushy-tailed Hermione. She had huge bags under her eyes and her movements were slow. Mrs. Weasley eyed her worriedly, "what's the matter dear? Couldn't sleep?" Hermione allowed Mrs. Weasley to bustle around fussing over her and drank copious amounts of black coffee. When everyone had eaten their vast quantities of toast and porridge, including a shame faced Fleur, they lined up near the fireplace so they could floo into the Leaky Cauldron.

As soon as they arrived Fleur dragged Hermione enthusiastically by the hand into the sunny street, not even giving her a chance to finish brushing the soot off. The first shop they visited was, of course, Madam Malkins. Fleur swiftly shoved Hermione unceremoniously into a changing room on the third floor, ignoring her feeble protests. "bu..but how am I supposed to pick clothes and underwear and shoes and things if I'm in here?" Hermione begged. "Don't be silly Hermione, I vill pick for you" and she frolicked off happily with a slight manic grin. Hermione started to panic, Fleur didn't exactly know the meaning of subtle, and she had never seen someone actually frolic before.

After what seemed like an hour to a panic stricken Hermione Fleur returned with a distressed looking sales assistant holding a mountain of clothes. Hermione started to look for exits she could escape from as Fleur started to advance on her. "Right try on ze underwear I guessed your size so eet might be a little out…" Hermione let out a squeal as Fleur started to grab at her clothes. "I can do it" she yelped almost hysterical. Fleur raise a quizzical eyebrow at her "do you vant me to body bind you again?" she threatened. Hermione meekly let her undress herself.

A few minute later Hermione was staring in shock at her reflection; she was torn between been horrified at how scandalously revealing the underwear was and admiring how good she looked. Taking her by surprise Fleur pounced for another hug and ruffled her hair "ah who's would 'ave thought, me little 'Mi all grown up with cleavage and everything" Hermione poked Fleur playfully, secretly pleased.

Hermione was forced to try on clothes for the best part of the day, and although she grumbled at Fleur she secretly liked the attention, her mother has never had girl's days out with her before and most girls tended not to like her. She was surprised by most of the clothes Fleur picked for her, they were more to Hermione's tastes than she would have expected; sexy in an understated way that made her look mature, not at all like Fleur's own style, in you face sexuality, with acres if cleavage and perfectly toned legs on display. The colours were carefully thought out to compliment her own colouring, although Fleur despaired at her lack of tan when she inspected her. "ve vill 'ave to fix zees" she exclaimed exasperatedly poking Hermione's milky white skin. "You can do some sunbathing with me...And look at zis she" she said with a worried expression, poking her slightly curving stomach "you villa 'ave to start doing yoga with me in the mornings!" Hermione walked out of the store plotting ways to kill Fleur without getting caught.

_Three weeks later_

Hermione was panting as she contorted herself into one of the insane yoga poses Fleur had been instructing her in, ''alf moon' Fleur had called it. Fleur insisted they woke up at the ungodly hour of 5am of every day to do an hour's yoga. After Hermione had given up on her attempts to kill her in her grouchy morning haze, Fleur's reflexes were freakishly fast, Hermione assumed it was a veela trait. There had been a number of embarrassing incidents, where Ron had walked in on Hermione in an awkward position in a leotard, which he had kindly never mentioned again, so Hermione had begged Fleur to put up privacy charms.

Fleur gracefully arced one leg, absentmindedly checking Hermione's posture out of the corner of her eye. Fleur had already noticed a vast improvement in Hermione. Although most of her spare time was still spent reading her previous bad posture had improved from the yoga, and she was gradually becoming toned and graceful, walking more like a dancer than the frumpy schoolgirl she had been. However the most marked improvement was in her confidence, she held her head high, not shying away from people and hiding behind her hair. Hermione had also taken to teasing Ron ruthlessly; Fleur knew it was just a matter of time before they started being more than friends.

Fleur smiled smugly to herself, giving herself a mental pat on the back for her plan working even beyond her expectations. "by 'ze way 'ermione I vas speeking with Molly and she mentioned 'Arry might be coming to stay, maybe ve can all go to the beach in France, I'm sure my dad wouldn't mind us using the holiday house". Hermione toppled over with a loud shriek at the mention of Harry. He hadn't replied to any letters other than to say he was fine and both Ron and Hermione were starting to get a little anxious at the lack of news.

That evening Ron, Hermione and Fleur stayed up into the early hours of the morning planning their trip, Fleur would work on convincing the Weasley matriarch that she was a responsible adult and her family would be around should anything happen beyond her capabilities. Hermione would be in charge of travel arrangements; booking the international floo, packing lists and supplies. It was agreed Ron's job would be to write to Harry, inviting him and keeping him up to date with the plans.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Everything you left me rambles in my head…no seriously…if I ramble poke me, and I'll stop. My intention is for Harry to grow up a bit, and gain a few skills along the way, he's more intelligent than in cannon but it just unrealistic for him to become a 'super powered Harry' in a few weeks. If I take it to far let me know will you? **

_**Where do I go from here? - Relient k**_

_Taking time to get over it_

_Making the best of what won't quit_

_Breaking me down I can't feel a thing_

_Tracing my steps right back to you_

_Racing the clock to save an hour or two_

_And facing the fact I don't feel a thing_

_I'm dealing with what I can't control_

_Feeling confused 'cause I don't know_

_If healing is when you don't feel a thing_

_Where do I go? Where do I stand?_

_Where can I find myself again?_

_Where do I go if not disappear_

_Where do I go from here?_

Harry sadly waved goodbye to Hermione and Ron, his two best friends in the world, as his brutish uncle Vernon dragged him towards the car. Trying his best to avoid wincing from the dull throb in his ear Harry thanked his uncle for picking him up. In reply he received a grunt from Vernon, who started the car, trying his best to avoid paying any form of attention to the grieving boy huddled in his car. Harry curled himself in a ball on the backseat, biting back his tears bitterly; he would not allow a man like Vernon the pleasure at seeing him weak.

By the end of the first day of his summer holidays Harry had already finished his homework assignments, mainly essays on a few topics they would be studying in class next year and mainly set by Snape. By the end of the second day he had re read all his textbooks, even ones from previous years, Harry was surprised how much he had missed the first time round. Already there was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of his dreaded OWL results.

Sighing Harry lay down on his small bed, slowly stroking Hedwig. He did his best to avoid the Dursleys, cooking his own meals at odd hours and shutting himself in his room, except for the long walks around Little Whinging, which he had started to enjoy daily. He left most of the letters he received unanswered and only gave Hermione and Ron cursory replies. He just didn't feel like replying every time he thought about how Ron and Hermione had been hurt, and had risked their lives, because of his stupidity, he felt ill. This meant Hedwig was Harry's sole companion. The wise snowy owl was the only one that ever saw harry cry himself to sleep in a foetal position each night, and tried to sooth him with comporting clicks of her beak when he awoke from nightmares screaming. It hurt Hedwig to see her hatchling this way and Harry appreciated her efforts but it wasn't a substitute to the human affection he knew he needed, but felt he didn't deserve.

On the third day he decided something had to change.

Pulling the invisibility cloak around him, Harry rushed out of the front door, as his aunt collected the milk bottles. He edged warily past the spot where he had heard an apparition 'pop'. It had taken him a little over an hour into his holiday to realise Dumbledore had ordered his followers to take turns spying on him. Apparently when you paced under a disillusionment charm you still left footprint behind in grass. A useful piece of information Harry had filed away for future reference.

Harry lifted his wand and summoned the night bus, this time he stayed firmly planted on his feet, not taken unawares by a Sirius sighting. He fought tears once again, as he counted out coins to give to Stan Shunpike, he would never see 'snuffles' again.

He was slightly lifted out of his feelings of melancholy when the garish purple bus arrived at Diagon Alley. The street seemed to bustle with life as hundreds of witches and wizards went about their everyday business. A slight hum of magic hung in the sunshine warmed air giving the street an almost glowing atmosphere. It was in stark contrast to his whitewashed walls and the cold indifference of the Dursleys. Harry looked around for a few moments, before shaking himself out of his reviver and deciding where he would go first. He moved quickly through the tightly packed crowds, easily dodging and sidestepping frustrated shoppers and hurried businessmen. He was careful to avoid making eye contact or allowing anyone to scrutinise him too carefully, he considered himself lucky he had not yet been recognised. In truth the main reason he continued unnoticed. Despite the numerous descriptions circling of him in The Profit, was his slight stature, he simply looked more like a first or second year, not like a 15 year old.

When the dusty bell rang as the door creaked open, Olivander was startled and immediately looked up from his reading. He didn't have a large influx of customers until closer to the start of term, a few hundred parents bringing their children for their first wands. "What can I do for you today Mr. Potter, having wand troubles are we, what was it holly and phoenix feather?" the kindly old man enquired, pushing the glasses up his nose in thought. Harry nodded sagely "you remember every wand you ever sell, right?" Harry explained to himself, more than to Olivander. "With all due respect sir, I think you know why I'm here. My current wand isn't going to cut it. The brother cores cause prior incantatum, they have the same strengths and weaknesses... and I can't do any training out side of school with the ministry tracking it". He hesitated before he added his last reason; Olivander would be taking a big risk in helping Harry evade the ministries tracking charms. Olivander eyed him warily, "ah but Mr. Potter the wand chooses the wizard and your wand has already chosen. Unless…." Olivander trailed off, and quickly waved his wand shutting the door and pulling shutters down. "The only other option is I custom make you a wand, it's quite frowned upon by the ministry I'm afraid sometimes the wands are so well matched they sometimes develop unusual skills. However I suppose due to your somewhat unusual circumstances I can make an exception just this once, but I trust you to be discrete in where and how you use it. Are we clear? Take a seat Mr. Potter, will fetch the necessary item from my store rooms". Harry sat down; grateful the elderly wand maker hadn't just kicked him out and reported him to Dumbledore.

Olivander took his time choosing the needed items from the copious amounts of shelves in his back room. He collected a small vial of a murky green potion and an armful of books. Returning to find Harry examining a pile of wands in various states of disrepair on his desk. Olivander dropped the books on the desk, creating a loud bang, and causing Harry to jump in shock. "Have you ever seen this potion before Mr. Potter? It's called the Subconscious draft. It should allow you to learn things about yourself which would otherwise go unnoticed. It's a mild hallucinogenic, so don't be alarmed if strange things begin to happen. When it takes effect I wish for you to imagine a forest, I want you to tell me the first sort of tree you see and any animals you may see. Do you understand" Olivander passed to potion to harry when he nodded.

Harry swallowed to potion, struggling not to cough it up as it slid its way down his throat. He was desperately trying to imagine a forest when the potion took effect. A branch appeared to be coming through a wall, when he turned around to make sure Olivander knew his shop had become afforested, he too had been replaced by a gnarled tree. Taking a step forward harry tentatively touched one of the branches, it felt real, the bark rough under his hands. The tree was a type he didn't recognise, it had a pale slate grey bark and no leaves harry could see. When he snapped off a twig he could see it was coal black inside. Looking around confused by this weird sort of tree he was scared to realise how stark and barren the forest he had imagined was. A few trees dotted the snowy landscape and there was nothing but bare trees as far as harry could see. Beginning to shiver, Harry tried to calculate how long he had spent in his potion induced haze. Looking into the cloudy sky harry could make out a familiar shape on the horizon, Hedwig. As she landed on his shoulder he began to pet her, but soon the trees began to thin out and harry awareness of the shop. He was embarrassed to find he was petting a battered fur hat on the coat stand.

"So what did you see Mr. Potter?" asked Olivander pulling his books eagerly towards him in anticipation. Harry described the trees he had seen and Olivander started to flick through pages in a small red book. But as harry was describing how Hedwig had been there the old man looked up sharply "Your owl Hedwig are you sure? That should be impossible….unless you have a familiar bond, tell me how close are you and this owl, it's very rare for any pet to become a familiar nowadays." "Well I guess were pretty close, she practically raised me" Harry answered watching Olivander's brow furrowing, an interesting expression with so many wrinkles. "I suggest you do some reading into familiar bonds then harry, it could be very useful in future, but I am going to need a feather from Hedwig, so if you would be so kind as to summon her?" Olivander waited patiently. Harry blushed feeling stupid "um how would I do that sir?" muttered harry. "Bless my soul, you have a familiar bond and you don't know how to call her to your side? Well let me see, try closing your eyes, concentrate very carefully on your owl, can you feel her hovering on the corners on your conciseness" Olivander waited for harry to nod before proceeding "now I want you to concentrate really hard on the thought of her being here with you". Harry followed Olivander's instructions and jumped back as Hedwig appeared next to him, looking bemused at her human.

"Hey girl, sorry for calling you so suddenly, but I was wondering if I could use a feather of yours for my wand. I know you don't want to loose any, I think they're beautiful as well girl, but it will grow back and it will help keep me safe". Harry felt a little stupid at speaking to Hedwig in front of another person, he talked to her all the time when he was alone, and it just seemed so much odder to do it while been watched. She looked at harry with her wise eyes for a moment as if considering his proposal before lifting a snowy wing and allowing Olivander to pluck a suitable feather. "You can go back to what you were doing now girl, thanks, I'll buy you some treats while I'm shopping" Harry waved off Hedwig who disappeared in a puff of downy feathers.

"You do indeed have a fascinating relationship with your owl Mr. Potter. Now we must ascertain which species of tree it was you saw, can you tell me if it was any of these? If not have a flick through the book and see if you can find it" Harry looked at the book but was disappointed when none of the pictures were anything like what he had seen. He skimmed the book before coming to a halt at the striking image of a gnarled tree, like the ones he had seen. Olivander looked at the page and this time both his eyebrows shot up. "Are you sure? I should have known making a wand for you would be a challenge. This is a black poplar tree; they're getting quite rare now. There have only been a few recorded cases in the last 2 centuries of people compatible with black poplar wood. An ancient Greek legend describes how Paetheons' sisters were so mad with grief; the gods could not stand their weeping and turned them into the first black poplars. As such the wood will only be accepted by people who are so full of sorrow the sisters will pity them. However it is said to create very powerful wands, this wand I am making will be remembered throughout history, I have no doubt" explained Olivander, peering at the sad looking boy above his glasses. "I was thinking of putting on some basic runic wards, the structure won't hold many but I could put a few simple protecting ones on for you. If I shut the shop I should be able to finish your wand for this evening, but I will need your help with the runes". Harry thanked Olivander and as he was leaving it occurred to him he needed to pay, turning back Harry muttered "oh sorry, how much do I owe you?" feeling like a twit, Olivander was risking a lot by helping him and he forgot to pay. "Nonsense I won't hear of it, like I said, this wand will be remembered throughout history, and besides, I lost a few people in the first war, helping you is my only hope of justice" Olivander looked wistful as he ushered harry out of the shop so he could get to work.

As Harry began his shopping Olivander took out the small golden key he wore around his neck and opened the rusty door to the workshop he had not entered in 16 years. After he had lost his older brother, Oliver, he could not enter without being bombarded by the memories of his death. Oliver pleading for mercy as the death eaters tortured him when he refused to reveal Olivander's location. The death eaters had being trying for months to capture Olivander to custom make wands for them all and his brother had offered his protection as an aurora. Cursing Voldemort Olivander had vowed never to custom make a wand again- instead all new stock was now imported.

A few quick cleaning charms and the remains of the dust collected over one and a half decades were gone. Flicking on a lamp he began to work. Taking out a deep black block of wood from a locked drawer he began whittling, chanting the correct enchantments to imbue the wand with powers. Soon he was deep in a trance his hands and voice following the routine they had memorised, despite their lack of use. Unknowingly he slipped deeper into his trance, chanting words and spells he had never heard of or even dreamed of before.

Harry entered Madam Malkins staring warily at the haughty sales assistants and the endless shelves of clothing. He was looking at some plainish looking black robes, when he bumped into a familiar face. "'arry what are you doing 'ere? Dumbledore said you weren't allowed to leave your 'ouse!" Fleur squealed and pulled him into a hug, making a slight blush spread across his cheeks. "I decided it was time for a change of wardrobe" he smiled wryly and gestured to his baggy t-shirt and battered jeans. She frowned as she took in his hand-me-downs from Dudley, slowly what can only be described as a calculating smirk spread across her exquisite face. "Fashion" said Fleur in an eerie voice "ees my speciality". Harry was about to protest when he was thrown into a changing room in a whirl of ice blonde hair. "Wait 'ere while I fetch you some things to try on".

After a strangely short wait harry became quickly buried under the piles of clothes Fleur thrust upon him, she had picked them so quickly he was beginning to wonder if she had planned this. Fleur quickly realised he was incapable of putting together an outfit while she was waiting outside ready to advise and instruct. Soon after harry had inadvertently committed a crime of fashion, trying on a purple shirt with pale blue jeans, Fleur decided he was incompetent and began picking outfits for him to try on. Soon the pile of clothing that met Fleur's nod of approval grew to include; tailored jeans, assorted t-shirts, checked shirts, waistcoats, shoes and jumpers. Harry occupied his mind by trying to fathom how Fleur had guessed his sizes so accurately, even his underwear.

Soon harry was left only with the pile of clothes he was planning on buying, relieved harry placed them into one of the levitating baskets following him and tagged after Fleur who was leading the way to the tills. As he was shuffling obediently behind her a jacket caught his eye. Pulling it out he saw on the tag it was vintage dragon hide, it looked identical to muggle leather except it had a slight green sheen when he put it under a light. The only other difference between leather and dragon hide (if the label is to be believed) is its ability to absorb minor hexes and jinxes. Harry pulled it on marvelling at how soft the worn hide was. Fleur smiled in assent while browsing the jewellery section and tossed some small silver rings into the basket. "Fleur I really am not getting jewellery, even I have my limits." Harry stated reasonably only for his argument to be effectively silence by Fleur's threatening glare and pursed lips, the part veela could be very intimidating. He meekly put them back in the basket. "Trust me?" asked Fleur trying to appease harry, who grumbled as he handed over his Gringotts key so the cashier could draw the money from his vault.

Fleur shrunk the bags and wandered down a small side street, expecting harry to follow, sighing he did so; all his thoughts of escape were dashed when she kept the bags in the oversized handbag she was carrying. When she stopped in front of a tattoo parlour harry looked at hr incredulously "are you insane? I don't want a tattoo, and even if I did I'm still underage!" harry yelled loudly. "Shhh, relax 'arry you engleesh are so uptight, you're not getting a tattoo and you'll 'ave parental consent. Now 'ush I need to concentrate" Fleur explained scrunching up her nose in concentration as she applied glamour's to herself. When she was done she looked to be in her early 40's although harry suspected Fleur would look much younger when she did actually grow to be 40. "Now we just need to make you look like you're my son, don't squirm or I'll give you a crooked nose". A warm tingling sensation spread across his face and when he looked in the shop window he was surprised to find his nose had shrunk to a cute button nose like Fleur's, his hair was platinum blonde, reminding him too much of Malfoy for Harry's tastes and his scar was covered.

They really did look like mother and son as they stood next to each other, Fleur smiled pleased with her handiwork. Harry gingerly entered the shop and looked around the walls decorated with photos of various tattoos while Fleur spoke to the tattoo adorned man behind the counter. "Harry dear this nice man says you can go through to the back, I'll wait out here for you and pay, my treat okay?" She kissed him sloppily on the cheek and shoved him through the door; he was too shocked by her upper class British accent he didn't think to question what she had planned. If nothing else, Fleur was an excellent actor.

Harry took a seat in the leather chair in the middle of the room and waited for Fleur's plans to become apparent. Small looking woman covered in piercings approached him "now don't panic, this wont hurt a bit" she said as she fiddled with his ear before using a weird staple gun to clip two silver hoops through the top of his ear. "That's weird I had you pegged as a wuss, you didn't even flinch. Guess I underestimated you kid", she smiled and handed him a book on how to care for his piercings.

Gingerly Harry felt his ear as he walked along side Fleur, now back to her normal ethereal beauty. "Bah, if you didn't want eet you could 'ave said sometheeng!" her ears were deaf to Harry's excuses and they parted with Harry still grumbling about his ear.

Harry entered Flourish and Blotts still blushing from Fleur's over enthusiastic hug. Browsing the shelves he was beginning to feel what it must be like to be Hermione. The towering shelves and endless rows of knowledge made Harry feel very small. He started a pile of books that looked like they could be useful; "Duelling for Dummies", "Handy Healing Magic", "Ancient runes for Amateurs", "The Big Book of Obscure Charms and Jinxes" as well as many others that looked interesting, he was going to have lot of reading to do over the summer. The pile on the counter slowly mounted up and the sales clerk smiled happily as they bagged the books and shrank them. Maybe he could do some lesson plans for the DA, if anyone still wanted to continue it that is.

He briefly entered the apothecary and stocked up on potions ingredients. Snape would be proud; he recognised almost all the contents of the many glass jars.

Slowly shuffling along the edges of the hoard of shoppers harry licked an ice cream as he made his way back to Olivander's, checking his watch he realised he had wasted almost two hours in the quiditch shop choosing which pair of seekers gloves would be best.

Olivander gestured him in bristling with excitement "Mr. Potter the wand is ready, bless my soul I don't think I've every worked so fast, the fates must be on your side. I need your help to register the wand to you and activate the runes. If you could just prick your finger and let a drop of blood fall onto the handle?" Harry looked anxious "But sir, isn't blood magic dark?" Ron had told him horror stories about the type of people that enlisted blood magic. "nonsense my boy, how is making your wand only work for you dark, its all about intent, the tickling hex could be considered dark in the hands of a dark wizard".

Shrugging Harry slit his finger and felt the wand become cold as the blood fell onto the first rune. He almost dropped the wand as it iced over his hand and let out an eerie sliver glow, so bright he had to shield his eyes. When he had picked up his first wand and bonded with it a faint gold aura had surrounded him and he heard music. At the time he had though that was the world best feeling, but it was incomparable to this.

A wind picked up around him rushing past his face playfully, it felt like he was flying. The glow dimmed to what looked like moonlight and the scent of roses and freshly cut grass, it was like his magic was few for the first time and singing. When he opened his eyes he realised he was floating. The shock caused him to drop the wand and, consequently, he fell with a "huff" to the ground.

Olivander smiled at him "It's been a while since I've seen a wand so matched to its owner, do it proud."


End file.
